Late night Comforts
by NevaRyadL
Summary: Gunnar has nightmares, good thing Vilkas is there for him (rated M for safety!)


Hello! This is just a short something-something that popped into my head the other day that I'd thought I'd share.

As always, this contains some light m/m stuff so if you don't like then don't read. All flamers, haters and trolls will be vanquished with the fury of a thousand internets

~Enjoy

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Those who are either cursed or blessed with beast blood suffer the ill effect of its forever boiling state. They are quick to anger, able to push to inhuman extremes and can never gain a restful night's sleep. And while this maybe was great for those that always wanted to be that perfect mix between man and animal and hunt for the glory of Hircine, to those that see the blood as a curse found themselves inconvenienced in a more human life.

Such as with Vilkas.

He found himself unable to enjoy the warm embrace of his husband most nights because his beast blood always kept him on edge. The knight would tense at the slightest of sounds and most nights his tensing often awoke Gunnar, making them both suffer. While Gunnar wasn't bothered by it at all, Vilkas still felt terrible about waking him in the middle of the night because someone was stumbling around drunk in the halls.

There was always the option to simply cleanse his blood of the curse, and Gunnar was always more than willing to help him, but there was a terrible hesitation whenever Vilkas tried to decide. Yes it was getting rid of the bane of his life but it was also taking a huge part of it as well.

Could he really rid himself of his wolf blood when he had had it for so long? Would he be able to function with his senses after they had been dulled? Kodlak had told him it was losing half of everything when the blood was cleansed, like becoming half numb, deaf and blind. And the fear of losing what he had worked all his life to get… was scary.

And it became even scarier when he thought of what Gunnar would think. Would the old warrior still love him if he had to basically retrain himself to simply live life day to day, let alone all the training he would have to go through again? Would Gunnar still love him without the edge of the werewolf blood? Would the enigmatic warrior still want him?

Vilkas thought of these things often, especially when his cursed blood refused to let him sleep, watching the face of his sleeping husband. Sleepless nights like this one, where as he pondered giving up on the beast blood or simply accepting his fate as a cursed dog for Hircine, he watched Gunnar's peaceful sleeping face, enjoyed the warm arm thrown over him the warmth of the large, older Nord.

Then again, Vilkas had his beast blood to thank for being awake to catch Gunnar's nightmare.

It started when Gunnar's face suddenly pinched and his lips parted the slightest bit to let out a pained groan. And then Gunnar's face contorted in absolute agony and he let out a terrible wail of pain. Vilkas was right there, pressing his hands to Gunnar's contorted face, trying to sooth those wrinkles in his handsome face and murmuring comforting words to him.

"Gunnar, it's alright, I'm here, remember that I'm here"

Gunnar grunted and gritted his teeth, fighting another cry of anguish. The jagged scar, that constant reminder of that terrible incident when he was a child and a reminder of his lost eye, was darkening to an agitated pink. Very soon it looked fresh, not years and years old.

"Gunnar?" Vilkas asked, worried.

Was Gunnar dreaming of the day he had lost his eye? Was it that painful?

Gunnar shouted again, sounding like he was in even more pain, his lips pulled back against his gritted teeth, the scar visibly throbbing.

"Gunnar" Vilkas said, fingers rubbing at his lover's face, trying to rouse him.

"No, hurts" Gunnar grunted out "It hurts"

The scar felt hot under Vilkas' fingertips, like the very blood underneath was boiling. The skin felt like thin paper.

"Make it stop" Gunnar nearly wailed.

"Gunnar, please wake up" Vilkas pleaded "Remember, you're here, with me, you're not back there"

Gunnar grunted again before letting out yet another cry of pain. His skin was flushed and sweaty, like he really was hurt again. And realizing that nothing short of something solid would wake him Vilkas pulled Gunnar closer until the old warrior's face was buried in the knight's neck. Vilkas pressed one hand to the back of Gunnar's neck and started firmly messaging the tensed muscles while his free hand worked his way through his dark locks.

"I'm here Gunnar, you're here with me, and no one can change that"

Gunnar whimpered against his throat and let out a half sob and Vilkas only worked his hands harder.

It went on like that for a while, Gunnar making sounds of pain and Vilkas trying to sooth him, back and forth and back and forth until eventually Gunnar finally settled on a pathetic whimpering. And even that didn't last long, the whimpers dying off until Gunnar was silent once more.

For a long time they were like that, simply lying there silently with only the faintest sounds of their breathing being heard and the occasional sound outside their little world.

Sometime later Gunnar stirred against his chest. His arms came up underneath the blankets and wrapped themselves around Vilkas and the old warrior pressed his face more firmly against the knight's chest.

"I love you Vilkas, so fucking much"

"Same here old man"

And for once, Vilkas didn't get his ass swatted for that.


End file.
